growing up and throwing up

so because i had nothing to do yesterday and i have a semi-tight budget at the moment due to astronomical airfare prices to fly to buenos aires, i decided to spend an hour or two rummaging through more creative works salvaged from my childhood. again, i am quite convinced that i was a prodigy. it also appears i was an official member of the ghostwriter team in 1993, meaning i was the coolest five year old on the block (by default). does anyone remember that show? it was the bomb dot com. lenni was such a badass, too. she was definitely the equivalent of claudia kishi from the babysitters club.



here are some other things i found:

• a drawing of a pink and red unicorn which kind of looks like a mutant narwhal mermaid baby. there's also a poorly constructed pink heart surrounded by what i assume were supposed to be frills, but which end up making it look more like an amoeba. then, profoundly, i scrawled "oh miss unicorn, what is hart day" which, misspellings aside, i would decipher as "oh miss unicorn, what is valentine's day?" i didn't know how to draw ?'s, by the way. but this was (and still is) a very thought provoking question. what the hell IS valentine's day anyway? a shitty holiday at best, that's what.

• a beautiful collage done by my sister which includes cryptic images cut out from magazines and catalogs. i mean, i get tom selleck since everyone used to think he and my dad were doppelgangers, but the rest is a mystery. or a mystesprit, if you will. observe:

• an anti-drugs poster that i made probably around 4th grade. i make a comparison of people who do drugs and people who don't do drugs. the straight edge one is smiling and has just scored a goal. the crackhead is 1) a ginger, 2) wearing torn up clothes with holes that were probably supposed to indicate homelessness and poverty, but which i would now equate with the grunge era and/or the incredible hulk, meaning drugs are cool, 3) looking rather angry and has a tornado-esque situation coming out of the top of her head to further emphasize said anger, and 4) has a large overflowing gut which is highlighted by her hulk-esque crop top that she probably either found in the trash or bought from urban outfitters as an impulsive purchase gone horribly wrong. the "drugs" in question include a packet labeled as chewing tobacco, a box of marlboro lights (thanks for the inspiration, pops!) and something that could either be a joint or a mound of cocaine. either way, i went all out on the anti-tobacco campaign more than the pills and hypodermic needles end of the spectrum. the caption reads "drugs are stupid and full of anger!" apparently i was a little confused about the chemical composition of drugs...i'm pretty sure you'll find a lot of shit in them, but i don't know that any actually contain physical traces of anger.
  

• a card made especially for me by the boy from across the street named oliver, age 5 or 6. he and his family were british and they only lived in that house for a short while, but ollie and i were bff's. the card reads "dear megan, would you like to come to my house this afternoon? love oliver." there is also a drawing of a house in case i was confused by the concepts discussed in the message. dear oliver, is that invitation still open? because i bet you are really good looking and still super british right about now, and i am totally available for dates and beans on toast and cricket matches. he also says "look on the back of the card!" so i did, and there is a drawing of what i assume is supposed to be me, although it also looks like a zombie which is kind of unflattering. the torso is tombstone shaped, there are giant green blob arms protruding from the midsection, pink matchstick legs, a scary clown face with blue hair, and some sort of green beret with a yellow flower on top. i know for a fact my hair was never that long, so i'm going to go ahead and say it's not a drawing of me.

• a story written by either my sister or myself (not sure as it is unsigned) that merely says "a long time ago there was a man and a woman. the end." it is addressed "to mom". good one.

• another anonymous note that reads "i love you mom your the best mom in the world i'll never ever do anything that well hurt you or your feelings." misspellings aside, this message was making some pretty lofty promises. this is almost as bad as the sister/best friends for life contract that quinn made me sign when i was 5.

• a polaroid of my sister and my dad hanging out with a baby tiger. why did i miss that? i'm so effing jealous. okay, okay, i probably would've been like 2 years old so there's a safety factor, but i know for a fact me and that baby tiger would've hit it off and had mad suburban jungle adventures.

and so there you have it. more proof that i was a child prodigy who surrounded herself by more child prodigies and british people (synonymous).